


The Tale of How Hermione Came to be a Cat

by abigail89



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Comedy, Friendship, Hogwarts Era, Second War with Voldemort, The Quidditch Pitch: From Diagon Alley to Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-26
Updated: 2007-11-26
Packaged: 2018-10-26 13:56:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10788048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigail89/pseuds/abigail89
Summary: A Transfiguration accident forces Harry and Ron to visit the dungeons. Unauthorized.  Oh, boy.





	The Tale of How Hermione Came to be a Cat

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
> **Author's notes:**
> 
> This little story takes place at the beginning of Chapter 16 “Professor Trelawney’s Predication”, _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ , p. 263 (US edition paperback edition):  
>   
>  _….Exams were nearly upon them, and instead of lazing around outside, the students were forced to remain inside the castle, trying to bully their brains into concentration while enticing wafts of summer air drifted in through the windows…_
> 
>  *~*
> 
> Written for the Paintbrush and Quills Challenge for 'Phoenix Rising: A Harry Potter Conference' held in New Orleans, LA in May 2007.  My collaborator on the project was the fabulously talented artist, hill_. 
> 
> Many, many thanks to my awesome beta team: [](http://aome.livejournal.com/profile)[**aome**](http://aome.livejournal.com/), [](http://parthenia14.livejournal.com/profile)[**parthenia14**](http://parthenia14.livejournal.com/), [](http://eibbil-libbie.livejournal.com/profile)[**eibbil_libbie**](http://eibbil-libbie.livejournal.com/), and [](http://magicofisis.livejournal.com/profile)[**magicofisis**](http://magicofisis.livejournal.com/), [](http://junesrose.livejournal.com/profile)[**junesrose**](http://junesrose.livejournal.com/), and [](http://empressov.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://empressov.livejournal.com/)**empressov**. Any mistakes or stupidity remain mine alone. 

*~*  
  
The Gryffindor third years were settling in for a night of homework, more homework, and studying. Hermione had sketched out a rigorous exam study schedule for Harry and Ron, which, surprisingly, they agreed to follow. Seamus and Dean went to the library to complete the research on their History of Magic essay, so Neville joined Harry, Hermione and Ron in the common room. All three boys finished reading the Transfiguration assignment and were doing practical exercises Hermione made up for them. Harry ran upstairs to the dormitory to retrieve a roll of parchment for Hermione, who was making a study guide for Ancient Runes. Neville was attempting to Transfigure a book into a plant.  
  
And then, disaster struck.  
  
“What did you do, Neville?”  
  
Ron and Neville stared in horror at the empty chair where Hermione had sat only a few seconds before. Her eagle feather quill lay on the floor.  
  
“Oh my!” Neville breathed. “Oh my god.”  
  
“What incantation did you use?” Ron said, snatching up Neville’s copy of Intermediate Transfiguration, and quickly scanned the page. “Which one did you use? I don’t see anything that looks like turning something into a—a—whatever that is.”  
  
The ‘whatever that is’ narrowed its eyes and growled.  
  
Neville paled. “I don’t know what I said.” He clutched at his head, scrunching his eyes closed in remembering. “She told me to Transfigure her book into a fern. I looked at the incantation, and then I did it.”  
  
“Does that look like a fern to you?”  
  
“Oh, nooo!” Neville moaned. “I don’t know what I said. Oh my god, she’s gonna kill me.”  
  
“Well, at this point,” Ron said with some amusement, “the only thing she could probably manage is a good mangling.”  
  
At that moment, Harry returned from the dormitory, carrying two rolls of parchment. The silence stopped him. “What’s going on?” he asked cautiously.  
  
Neville could only groan and point, while Ron chuckled behind his hand. Harry looked at Hermione’s study area and jumped back a little in surprise, dropping the rolls.  
  
“Umm…where’d that—is that a cat?” he asked.  
  
“I guess you could call it that,” Ron replied. “But that’s Hermione.”  
  
Harry’s eyes bugged. “No way.”  
  
“Oh, yeah.”  
  
“It’s all my fault,” Neville wailed. “I can’t remember what I said, and I’ve turned Hermione into a …a…”  
  
“Cat?” supplied Ron.  
  
[“Or is it a chipmunk?” Harry said, ogling the small creature, which glared back at him. “Although, I don’t think a chipmunk has ever had a look like that.”](http://pics.livejournal.com/abigail89/pic/0000zax3/)   
  
“No, it’s definitely a cat,” Ron said, as the small critter opened its mouth and emitted something that sounded like a cross between a growl and a screech. “Nice one, Nev. Three years of complete failure at Transfiguration and you pick today to do it right.”  
  
“Well, sort of,” Harry said.  
  
The ‘Hermione’ creature continued its ear-bending screeching. Ron put his hands over his ears. “Could that be any more annoying?”  
  
Just then, ‘Hermione’ leapt up onto the table, stepping all over parchment rolls; her swishy tail knocked over a bottle of ink.  
  
“We’re going to have to do something before it destroys all her study notes,” Harry said, picking up the bottle. The small creature wound her body through Harry’s hands as he worked to clean up the table. “What do you want?” he asked her. He looked up to see Neville and Ron staring at him. “What?!? You don’t think she can’t understand, do you?” She was still moving around on the table, yowling.  
  
“Oh, yeah, that’s Hermione all right,” Ron muttered under his breath. But louder he said, “Probably not. I mean, this isn’t an Animagus transfiguration. Remember what McGonagall said about how when you transfigure someone into an animal, you take on the brain of that animal. But if you’re an Animagi you are who you are. You know, you’re yourself in the head.”  
  
“No,” Harry replied, “but I think I remember reading something about it somewhere now that you mention it.” He rifled through the stack of books on Hermione’s study table, carefully moving the little creature out of his way. He extracted _Quidditch Through the Ages_ and flipped open the book. “Yeah, here it is on the first page: ‘The witch or wizard who finds him- or herself transfigured into a bat may take to the air, but, having a bat’s brain, they are sure to forget where they want to go the moment they take flight.’”  
  
Once again, Ron and Neville stared at Harry. “Why does Hermione have a copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ in her books?”  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. “Why are you surprised? Hermione has every book in the library here.”  
  
“Hey, look at that!”  
  
The three boys turned to find Fred and George looking at the little creature. “What do we have here?” Fred said, picking ‘Hermione’ up.  
  
“Nothing I’ve ever seen,” George said, petting her head with his index finger.  
  
“Looks like a very rare creature.”  
  
“Maybe we ought to check it out.”  
  
“We’ll just—“  
  
“Take this upstairs to our room—“  
  
“And we’ll tell you—“  
  
“What it is—“  
  
“After we do some testing on it,” Fred finished. They turned to make their way up to their dormitory.  
  
“Wait! Wait, wait!” Harry and Neville cried together. Harry made a grab for the creature, but Fred held her over his head.   
  
“What is this?” he said mischievously. “Is Harry missing his ickle pussy cat?”  
  
“It’s not mine. It doesn’t belong to any of us.”  
  
“Yeah, it’s –“ Neville started, but Harry frantically shushed him.  
  
“It’s …” Harry started, but faltered.  
  
“It belongs to Hannah Abbot,” Ron cut in, giving Harry a look. “Yeah, you know, that blonde Hufflepuff in our year? Well, she told us about her cat, about how unusual it looks, so she let me have her for the evening. She’s a nice kitty, isn’t she?” Ron walked over to Fred, and took the small animal from him, holding it out at arms’ length. “Yeah, and I’m sure she won’t thank you for locking her up and doing Merlin knows what to her, so why don’t I just take her, all right?” He turned towards Harry and Neville, nodding his head meaningfully at them.  
  
“Yeah,” Harry started, “yeah, Hannah is a nice girl. I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate us letting her cat out of our sight.”  
  
“Because then how could she trust us with her again?” Neville added, though Ron and Harry shook their heads.  
  
“All right, all right! Don’t get your wand in a twist. But that definitely does NOT look like your average cat or Kneazle,” Fred said knowingly.   
  
As the twins went through the portrait hole, Ron put ‘Hermione’ on her study table, and sat down in the chair, watching the small creature prowl around the books. “What are we going to do?”  
  
Harry and Neville looked at each other. “Dunno,” Harry shrugged.  
  
The little creature was rubbing up against the stack of books. It had luxurious, bushy fur around her head and ear, down the stripe on her back, and across her very fluffy tail; its eyes were a deep brown. It also sported two large teeth.   
  
“I rather like her like this,” Ron said. “She’s soft and …” As he reached out his hand to touch her, the creature turned around and bit his finger. “Ouch!” Ron yelped. “Ow! Okay, I’ve changed my mind. Fred and George can do whatever they bloody well want.”  
  
He stalked off, kicking the forgotten parchments rolls angrily and shaking his finger.  
  
Harry and Neville looked at each other and sighed. “She’s still gonna kill me,” Neville moaned.  
  
“No, she won’t, Neville,” Harry said sympathetically. “‘Hermione’ probably won’t even remember what’s happened to her. At least that’s what Quidditch Through the Ages says.”  
  
“I’m not sure I trust a Quidditch book’s information about Transfiguration.”  
  
Harry shrugged. “Best we’ve got.”  
  
The little creature rubbed her head against Harry’s hand, then on the stack of books, and back to Harry’s hand. Harry scratched her head, distracted.  
  
“What we need to do is ask Professor McGonagall,” Harry said.  
  
“No!” Neville said. “Absolutely not. She’ll tell my Gran and then I’ll never hear the end of it.”  
  
The little creature emitted one of its ear-splitting yeows at that moment. Harry clamped his hands over his ear, hoping he wouldn’t suffer permanent hearing loss.   
  
“Why does it have to do that?” Neville wailed, covering his ears. “She’s not nearly as irritating as that when she’s….a witch.”  
  
“Wait….” Harry was watching the little creature carefully. “What is she doing?” ‘Hermione’ circled the stack of books, talking all the while. Sounds like her in her more frantic moments, he thought, and it brought a smile to his lips.  
  
‘Hermione’ stopped the incessant noise as he smiled. She sauntered over to him and rubbed her fuzzy body against his upturned hand. Ron was right--her fur was very soft and alight with many colours. The tips of the curls were bright, very un-animal-like. He fingered one of the orange curls, watching it roll around the tip.  
  
“What are you doing, Harry?”  
  
Harry looked up to find Ron staring at him, his finger now wrapped in a plaster. “Just thinking,” he replied. He dropped his hand and the little creature walked back over to the stack of books and rubbed her head against them.   
  
“Because it looks like you were, you know, petting it,” Ron said with a laugh.  
  
“Oh, sure, just because she doesn’t bite me, and – “ Harry blushed. “I really hope Hermione, er, the cat, er…whatever didn’t understand that.”  
  
Ron laughed loudly. The creature stopped and gave him another glare.  
  
Neville looked up from the Transfiguration book, and sighed. “What are we going to do?”  
  
“How about Percy?” Harry asked.  
  
“Well, he is pretty good at Transfiguration,” Ron said. “But the pompous git would probably tell us off and report Neville to Professor McGonagall. Let’s leave him out of this.”  
  
“Oliver?”  
  
“Maybe.” Ron ran up to check the seventh year dormitory, but no one was around. So, he ran to the library, but returned fifteen minutes later.  
  
“Didn’t find him,” Ron puffed. “Must have some secret study place.”  
  
“What about the other seventh years?” Neville asked.  
  
“I can’t very well go up the girls’ dormitories to check,” Ron said. “Besides, they might be studying with Oliver.”  
  
“Sixth years?”  
  
Harry watched ‘Hermione’ intently. “I think we need to keep this as quiet as possible. Keep it to just ourselves. I don’t really trust Fred and George, so we’re going to have to figure it out ourselves. It’s got to be in our textbook.”  
  
Ron scratched his head. “Usually Hermione does the figuring out for us.”  
  
At that moment, a gaggle of first and second year girls came through the portrait hole. “Oooh, lookie! A pretty kitty,” one of them cried.  
  
“Oooh!” The girls gathered around the table. One elbowed Harry in the stomach in her excitement, and he dropped his protective hand from ‘Hermione’. Neville and Ron backed away on instinct.  
  
Suddenly, ‘Hermione’ jumped over the beseeching hands, leaping high in the air, and hit the floor behind the crowd.  
  
“Whoa!” Ron exclaimed. “Look at her go!”  
  
The portrait hole opened again, and Percy came through, loaded with books and looking very grumpy. As he entered the common room, ‘Hermione’ skittered through the opening.  
  
“No! Hermione!” Harry yelled. And he took off through the hole.  
  
“Wait up,” Ron called. “Harry, wait up!” He and Neville followed Harry.  
  
“Hermione?” Percy said in a study-stupor voice. “That wasn’t Hermione. When did Harry get a cat..er…chipmunk…thing?”  
  
“Awww,” one of the girls wailed.  
  
*~*  
  
Harry had a difficult time keeping up with ‘Hermione’. She had the frantic speed and dodging ability of a small rodent, easily scurrying around bends in the stairways, tromping feet, and outstretched hands. Harry desperately wanted to Stupefy her, but dared not because of a crowd of younger students climbing the stairs. He wondered why they were out so late in the evening.  
  
“Catch that cat!” he called out, hoping someone would be able to.  
  
But ‘Hermione’ was much too nimble. She took off across the open floor of the main entryway and headed down the stairs to the dungeons. Harry’s stomach plummeted.  
  
“Harry, wait up!” He turned to see Neville and Ron rushing down the stairs.  
  
“What’s going on?” Ron said, irritated and out of breath. “And why are all these people out of their common rooms?”  
  
“Dunno,” Harry said, craning his neck around the bend in the staircase. “Hermione has gone down to the dungeons.  
  
“Brilliant,” Ron replied. “She would make this more difficult, wouldn’t she?”  
  
Harry glared at him. “You know,” he said, “I think we’re going to need something for getting around the castle.” He threw a meaningful glance at Ron, whose eyes widened; then Ron smiled and nodded. “Neville and I will go down and try to locate her, but we won’t go too far down that next corridor—you know the one.”  
  
Again, Ron nodded and he turned and ran across the Entrance Hall to the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower.  
  
“Come on, Neville,” Harry said.  
  
“Umm…Harry?”   
  
Harry turned to find Neville had turned to an unpleasant ashen colour and was looking decidedly peaky. “You okay?”  
  
“I-I don’t think I can go down there,” he said, trembling. “I don’t want to mess things up. You should go on your own.”  
  
“Neville,” Harry said as patiently as he could, “I really need your help.” A thought came to him. “Tell you what. Why don’t you hide in the alcove across from the Potions classroom? I’ll go further down the corridor and you can direct Ron when he gets there. Okay?”  
  
Neville looked like he was going to pass out with relief. “Okay. I can do that.”  
  
“Great,” Harry said. “Let’s go.”  
  
The two boys made their way quietly down the narrow staircase to the cool corridor. They paused briefly in front of the classroom, listening for Snape and unlucky students serving detention. Hearing nothing, Harry motioned for Neville to hide himself in the shadow of the small alcove. He pointed down the corridor and then to himself.  
  
Harry exhaled the breath he had been holding. He tiptoed past Snape’s office, praying the hated professor wasn’t around. Harry briefly considered holing up with Neville until Ron returned with the Invisibility Cloak, but decided he couldn’t hold off any longer trying to locate ‘Hermione’.  
  
He turned down the corridor that led deeper into the dungeons to the Slytherin dormitories. He had only been there that one time with Ron, but his memory was a bit fuzzy. He wasn’t sure that Gregory Goyle, the large Slytherin boy he had Polyjuiced himself to look like, knew where it was either. It was only sheer dumb luck that they had run into Malfoy who led them to the common room.  
  
Harry was about to turn back when he heard a familiar yeowling. Then, a boy’s voice said, “Oh, look at you! Are you lost?”  
  
Harry looked about frantically for a place to hide himself. He opened the nearest door, and entered the room. It was pitch black, but had the unmistakable feel of a large classroom. He closed the door to just a slit and looked out.  
  
[Gregory Goyle (Naturally, Harry thought, rolling his eyes) came out of a room up the corridor holding ‘Hermione’ in his large, thick hands. One beefy finger was stroking her head.](http://pics.livejournal.com/abigail89/pic/00010xs4/g17)   
  
“Such a pretty pussy cat,” the boy crooned in a high-pitched voice. “Are you looking for someone to wuv you?”  
  
Harry bit back a snort of laughter. Goyle continued to walk down the hall, still talking to her.  
  
Now Harry had something else to worry about: What if Ron came looking for him at that moment? Would he run into Goyle and blow their cover?  
  
Suddenly, a slight breeze passed him and the door shook imperceptibly. Harry stepped back, and drew his wand. “Ron?” he whispered.  
  
The door opened further, and then closed. Ron’s red hair appeared in the air, and then his hands emerged. “That was close. Man, we could really use the Marauder’s Map right now.”  
  
Harry, nearly giddy with relief, broke into a wide grin. “Tell me about it. Did you hear?”  
  
“‘Such a pretty widdle pussy,’” Ron said in a baby voice. “I so wish we could use that against him.”  
  
“We’ll have to be content to have a good laugh at Goyle’s expense when this is over,” Harry said, chuckling. “Right now, we have to figure out how to get Hermione back.”  
  
“Right. Oh, I saw Neville. I told him he could go on back up to the Tower and wait for us,” Ron said as he threw the Invisibility Cloak around Harry. “He looked really relieved.”  
  
“Perhaps it’s best. He can cover for us in case anyone is looking for us,” Harry said.  
  
They slowly opened the door and tracked ‘Hermone’’s high-pitched yeowling further into the dungeons.  
  
Following Goyle down several more corridors, Harry began to worry that the large Slytherin was headed to his dorm. How on earth would they be able to get ‘Hermione’ if he went in? But as if Goyle heard his question, the boy stopped and went into a small side room.  
  
The room held a few student desks and an old sofa. Goyle fell onto it with a flomph, sinking into the faded cushions; a cloud of dust rose around him. ‘Hermione’ sneezed.  
  
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Goyle said softly. “Did the pretty girl get dust up her nose? She’s such a sweet pussy, yes she is.” He continued to pet ‘Hermione’, who yeowled, whinged and trilled at him.  
  
“Why isn’t she biting him?” Ron breathed. Harry silently shushed him.  
  
“What do we have here?”  
  
Ron and Harry jumped at the sound of their Potions professor’s voice. “Goyle, what have you found?”  
  
“Uh, umm…Yes, Professor,” Goyle stammered while struggling to stand. The more he squirmed, the more he appeared to sink into the squashy cushions. “Umm…I—uh…..”  
  
“Oh, for the love of—“ Snape pulled out his wand and wordlessly waved it at him. Goyle shot out of the sofa and landed unsteadily on his large feet.  
  
Snape held out his hand. “Give it to me.”  
  
Goyle carefully placed ‘Hermione’ into his head of house’s hand, who then lifted her by the scruff if her neck and held her out in inspection. Ron took a step toward them, but Harry grabbed his arm, shaking his head.  
  
“Well, well, well,” Snape said. “What do we have here? Where did you find it, Goyle?”  
  
“Umm…just off the main hallway past your office,” Gregory said.  
  
“Hmm. You may return to your dormitory,” Snape said, pushing the boy out of the room. “Say nothing about this to anyone.”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
Snape left the room, still holding ‘Hermione’ by the scruff out in front of him as if she was infectious. Harry and Ron hurried out of the room, narrowly missing the hulk that was Goyle, who was standing still in the middle of the hallway.  
  
“Good-bye, pretty kitty,” he said wistfully.  
  
Biting back the urge to laugh, Harry tugged on Ron (who was snickering quietly), urging him to follow.   
  
The cloaked boys walked as quickly as they dared to keep up with Professor Snape.  
  
As he walked, Snape muttered to himself or to his captive. Harry strained to hear what the man was saying. He thought he heard, “Such an unusual beast. Very unique. Wonder where Goyle picked….er…her up?”   
  
Then, Harry saw ‘Hermione’ struggle in Snape’s grip, and he felt his blood boil. She growled and swiped at his billowing sleeve. Snape shook her. “Why, you cheeky fiend! You’re trying to hurt me, aren’t you? I shall have to discipline such a wild beast!” And though he did not say it unkindly, he continued to shake her about.  
  
“I’m going to …” Ron hissed.  
  
“Shush!” Harry whispered furiously.  
  
Snape turned the corner, still muttering. “Can’t wait to get you into the lab and find out exactly what you are. I believe I shall have to take some blood for analysis…”  
  
Harry panicked when he heard that. _Please! Please don’t go into your office. Pleaseplease…_

But his silent pleas went unheeded as Snape waved his wand and opened the door to his private office.  
  
Harry’s heart sank.  
  
“We’re done for,” Ron moaned. “We’ll never get her out of there. We’re going to lose our only source of History of Magic notes. We’ll lose a billion points. We’ll have to tell her parents…”  
  
“No, we have to get her back,” Harry said.   
  
For several minutes the boys paced up and down in front of the tightly closed door, as if they were willing it to open.  
  
Finally, Harry stopped suddenly, and Ron crashed into him. “What’s going on?” Ron croaked.  
  
“Look, we’ll just tell Snape what happened. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen to us?” Harry whispered. “All right?”   
  
Ron made a strangled, burbling sort of noise as Harry squared his shoulders, and threw off the Invisibility Cloak. “Ready?”  
  
Ron gulped, nodded shakily and held his wand out.  
  
Suddenly, they heard a very faint, but frantic, shrill yeowling through the heavy door.  
  
[“Alohamora!” Ron and Harry shouted together, pointing their wands at the knob.](http://pics.livejournal.com/abigail89/pic/000112k4/g17)   
  
“What the—?” Snape looked like, well, the door had just burst open. He was holding a large syringe with a very long, silver needle over the caged ‘Hermione.’ A small cauldron was bubbling next to him.  
  
“Wait!”  
  
“You can’t do that—“  
  
“It’s not what you think--it’s Hermione, only Neville Transfigured her--it’s not a Kneazle or a cat or a--into that thing and….”  
  
Snape raised his wand at them. “Silence!” he roared, and their confused babbling ceased. “Now, enter and explain, one at a time, exactly why you have violated multiple school rules about blasting open doors to private quarters and being out of your common room so late. And if you do not explain yourselves adequately you will serve detention with me every night for the rest of your days at Hogwarts.”  
  
“Well, sir…”  
  
“It’s Hermione…”  
  
“One. At. A. TIME!” Snape’s voice grew to a shout. “I cannot understand you if you talk at once. Potter! Explain.”  
  
“There was…erm—a Transfiguration accident, and Nev—er …someone accidentally Transfigured Hermione into…um…that,” Harry stuttered, still looking down the length of Snape’s wand. He pointed to ‘Hermione’; she was caught up in a small cage on the workbench.  
  
“Do you mean to say that this creature is Miss Granger Transfigured?”  
  
“Yes!” Ron said emphatically.  
  
His face hardened into a look of disgust. Without a word he released ‘Hermione’, picked her up by the scruff, and set her on the floor. She immediately scampered away and hid under the desk.  
  
Snape leveled his wand and muttered, “ _Accio_ Miss Granger.” Nothing happened. He then said more loudly, “ _Accio_ creature under my desk!”   
  
The small brown beast came flying out from under the and landed in the center of Snape’s chest, all four paws outstretched and twenty claws fully engaged. Snape gave a quiet, “Oof” at the impact.  
  
He carefully removed the small hooks from the front of his robes, and once again set her on the worktable. ‘Hermione’ tentatively rubbed her head against Snape’s fingers. Harry and Ron’s jaws dropped.  
  
“There’s a good kit--” Snape caught himself, snatching his hand away and gave Harry and Ron a look that clearly said, “Tell anyone of this and I’ll hex you four ways from Sunday.”  
  
‘Hermione’ look at the sallow-faced teacher and mewed at him. Snape stood and waved his wand.  
  
Hermione Granger quickly appeared before them, her bushy hair more wild than ever before.   
  
“Hermione!” Harry called.  
  
“Harry?” she said in a dazed voice. “Professor Snape? Wha-what are we doing in your office?”  
  
“Do you remember anything?” Ron asked.  
  
“Ron? What? No! What’s going on?” Her voice raised in pitch.  
  
“Apparently,” Snape drawled, “you were the victim of a Transfiguration gone awry by one of your incompetent Gryffindor compatriots. You would do well to steer clear of any of them in the future, Miss Granger.”  
  
She felt her hair and face, and then her eyes narrowed. “Who did it?” she asked.  
  
“Oh, um…well, that’s not terribly important right now,” Ron said. “The good thing is that you’re back and you’re normal, well, not altogether normal, I mean, your hair is really poufy and…”  
  
“Hermione,” Harry interjected, “what Ron is trying to say is that we’re really happy you’re okay. Let’s go back to the Tower.”  
  
“Thank you, Professor,” Hermione said, as she walked out of the office.  
  
Snape gave an inperceptible hum. “And you two”—he raised his voice—“if I hear even the slightest whisper, a hint of what you heard tonight, you will wish you had never. Been. Born. Do I make myself clear?”  
  
“Perfectly,” Harry said hastily.  
  
“Oh, and twenty points—each—from Gryffindor for being in the dungeons, unauthorized and after hours. And fifty points for blasting down the door to my office.” Snape gave them a sneer.  
  
“What?!” Harry practically shouted.  
  
“Harry!” Hermione hissed. “Leave it.”  
  
“Shall I make it a hundred points for insubordination? Nothing would give me better pleasure,” Snape said in a dangerous voice. At their frantic head shakes, Snape advanced on them, making them back out through the door. “Now get OUT!”  
  
And the door closed with a resounding BANG!  
  
[The three Gryffindors were silent as they ran quickly up the dungeon stair well to the now deserted Entrance Hall. As they began the ascent to their dormitory, Hermione asked, “So who did this to me?”](http://pics.livejournal.com/abigail89/pic/00012f08/g17)   
  
Ron and Harry exchanged looks. “Why? What are you going to do to him?” Ron asked warily.  
  
“It depends. If it was you,” and she glared at Ron, “I will hex you into next week. And I won’t share my History notes with you.”   
  
“You weren’t going to anyway,” Ron grumbled. “But no, it wasn’t me.”  
  
“Well, I know it wasn’t Harry because I remember he left the common room right before I forgot everything that had happened. So if it wasn’t Ron, it was…”  
  
“Yeah, it was Neville. But please, Hermione, don’t kill him!” Ron pleaded. “At least he pulled off a really nice bit of Transfiguration, even if it wasn’t what he intended.”  
  
“I reckon you won’t be offering Neville your textbooks to be Transfigured into ferns any time soon,” Harry said.  
  
As they reached the Tower, Ron pulled on Hermione’s robes sleeve. “You’re not going to do anything to Neville are you?”  
  
“Oh, honestly,” Hermione said irritably. “Of course not. Neville didn’t mean anything by it. He just…miscalculated.”  
  
They went through portrait hole. Neville greeted her nervously, and Hermione quickly reassured him that she wasn’t angry or upset, though she did tell him to never try to Transfigure one her books ever again.  
  
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said, gathering up an armload of books, “I think I need a shower. I have the strangest feeling people have been touching my hair.”  
  
Ron and Harry laughed. “If only you knew, Hermione,” Ron said.  
  
She glared at them and headed up the stairs.

 


End file.
